


Asunder, Bound Evermore

by Luka z Rivii (wayward_dream)



Series: Heart Day 2020 Prompts [14]
Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Because reader is under the effects of a potion, Dark Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fuck Or Die, Love Potion/Spell, Lust Potion/Spell, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Multi, NSFW, Partial Mind Control, Pining, Threesome, Threesome - F/M/M, Violence, reader is a third wheel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-02
Updated: 2020-04-02
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:27:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23442448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wayward_dream/pseuds/Luka%20z%20Rivii
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Reader, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion/Reader, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Reader, Jaskier | Dandelion/Reader
Series: Heart Day 2020 Prompts [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1686376
Comments: 3
Kudos: 215





	Asunder, Bound Evermore

Geralt and Jaskier have been acting…odd, lately. It was small things at first: Geralt staring intently at Jaskier’s fingers when he strummed on his lute, Jaskier looking longingly at Geralt while the witcher was preoccupied with polishing his swords. The two of them had been dancing around each other with building tension and you’d been trying to keep out of it, let them work it out amongst themselves. And then, a few days ago, you went into town to get some supplies and gather information while they did some leg work tracking a creature. When they came to find you, they were acting….different. Geralt had a smug air about him and Jaskier seemed calmer, somehow. They were standing closer together so their shoulders brushed, they shared a lot of lingering glances and you noticed that Geralt began to reach back when Jaskier went to touch him.

You pretended not to notice, not wanting to call attention to something they were clearly trying to keep private between themselves. They’d tell you when they were ready, or so you hoped. It made you smile, they really did deserve happiness, and if they could find it together, even better. But you’d been traveling with them for close to a year now, and with them coupling off, the sudden change in dynamics left you feeling a bit excluded. You held your tongue, but it got harder as time went on and you had to watch them finding comfort in each other while receiving none yourself.

Seeing them be happy together forced you to realize how lonely you were. And the longer it went on, the worse you were feeling. You were restless, your appetite decreased, and it got to the point that Jaskier finally picked up on your quiet melancholy. The two of you were in a tavern when he brought it up; Geralt had told you to wait there while he went after the witch, insisting it was best the two of you stay somewhere safe. It made you restless with worry, sitting around while he was in danger, but he was right after all: he knew how to do his job and didn’t need to be worried about keeping you and Jaskier safe on top of trying to kill a witch.

“Y/N?” Jaskier said your name quietly, sliding into the seat beside you at the bar and stirring you from your thoughts.

“You did great, Jaskier,” you told him with a smile, taking a sip of your ale. He’d just finished a performance and had earned a respectable amount of coin from the crowd for his songs.

He smiled briefly before sobering. “Thank you, but that’s not what I wanted to talk about. Are you alright, love?” he asked earnestly.

You were taken aback slightly. “What do you mean?”

“I mean you’ve been eating less, losing weight, and you’ve been awfully quiet. Every time I looked at you tonight you were staring into your tankard as though contemplating drowning yourself in it, and I’m worried. You know you can tell me anything, yes?” He reached out, squeezed your hand.

You blinked hard, fighting the welling up of tears in your eyes as you squeezed his hand hard. “The same goes for you, and yet you’ve been keeping something from me.”

Jaskier looked at you in bemusement. “I’m sure I don’t know what you–”

“I know,” you interrupted, pulling your hand away. It stung, that he was going to try and deny it, and you’d had enough. “About you and Geralt. I know you two, and I know you’ve been courting. I’m not blind.” You threw your head back and drained the rest of your ale.

You saw Jaskier wince out of the corner of your eye. “We were going to tell you, Y/N–”

“But you didn’t,” you huffed. “You’re supposed to be my best friend but you’ve been keeping secrets and sneaking around. Do you not trust me, Jask?” You turned to face him, and it was only as the words came out that you realized how much pent-up hurt you’d been carrying around as it twisted around inside you, visceral and nauseating.

“Of course I do, but…this, between us, we aren’t even sure what it is, it’s so new and delicate, like a baby bird, too young to even try to fly yet. We wanted to see what came of it before we announced anything so….official. I’m sorry if we hurt you in the process.”

You wiped your eyes. “You could have told me.”

Jaskier studied you in concern. “That’s not all that’s weighing on you though, is it?”

You looked away, shrugging one shoulder. Jaskier touched your shoulder, squeezed gently, and you sagged, sighing deeply. “I’m lonely,” you admitted quietly. “Seeing you two together, it made me realize that I….I don’t have that sort of companionship, and it’s been….getting to me, I suppose.” You stared down at your skirt, picking at a loose thread.

“We can find you someone, Y/N, if that’s the problem,” Jaskier assured you. You looked up at him and felt your heart squeeze painfully, realization crashing down on you all at once: you didn’t want ‘someone’. Not a roll in the hay, not some random pickup.

You wanted….them. Geralt. Jaskier. But they had each other, had chosen each other. If they’d wanted you, they would have expressed an interest by now. You snatched Jaskier’s cup from him, shaking your head. “I’ll be fine, Jaskier.” You downed the rest of his drink, ignoring his worried look.

“Maybe it would help–” he tried to coax you.

You shook your head, putting a hand on his chest. “Jask. I don’t….that’s not what I want. Trust me on that, okay? If you want to help, buy me another drink and tell me some stories so I won’t have to think for a while.”

Jaskier still looked concerned, but he did as you said, flagging down the bartender and ordering a round of drinks for the two of you. You chugged the first handed to you and felt your head start to go pleasantly fuzzy, warmth bubbling through your veins. You sipped the next cup more slowly, letting yourself get lost in the buzz of alcohol and the swell of Jaskier’s voice as he regaled you with tales of his antics in school and some of his grander adventures with Geralt. You knew he was probably exaggerating, but he had you snorting with laughter and gasping in awe, had you captivated, and that was all that mattered.

As the night wore on you downed drink after drink until Jaskier finally cut you off.

“You’re swaying in your seat,” he told you. “Come on, enough. Up to bed with you.”

“‘m fiiiiine, Jask,” you slurred, latching onto him as you staggered to your feet. His hands on your waist steadied you and he heaved a put-upon sigh.

“You’re going to be miserable in the morning,” he told you. He drew your arm around his shoulders, slid his around your waist, and led you to the stairs, up to the room he’d already purchased for the night. You face-planted on the bed nearest the door with a groan, burying your face in the pillows.

You heard Jaskier puttering around and turned your head slightly to watch him through slitted eyes as he dug through your belongings for sleeping clothes before coming over to you. “Come on then, sit up. Let’s get you out of those and into something more comfortable.”

“Don’ wanna,” you whined.

“Come on, do it for me,” he coaxed.

“Unfair,” you groaned, your arms wobbling as you shoved them under you to push yourself up. Everything spun for a few moments and you cursed, almost collapsing again. Jaskier’s arm slid around you again, and he tutted softly in exasperation as he pulled you upright. You batted at his hands half-heartedly as they efficiently began to work at the laces of your dress. “Hey!!”

He raised an eyebrow at you. “Do you think you can undo those laces yourself?”

“I can do it,” you sulked, fingers slowly fumbling and tugging with little effect. Rolling his eyes, Jaskier pushed your hands away.

“Let me,” he said firmly. “Y/N, you’ve been with us for almost a year, we’ve all seen each other in various states of undress, it’s not like you have to hide from me.”

“‘s different,” you mumbled, rubbing your eyes, but you let Jaskier unlace your dress. He carefully helped you to your feet and pulled it up and over your head gently, careful not to let it snag on your hair. He helped you into your nightgown, huffing when your arms got stuck in the sleeves.

“ _Honestly_ , darling.” He rolled his eyes but he was smiling as he helped pull your arms free. You swayed and leaned heavily into him with a groan. “You’re a mess,” he said fondly, supporting you with his arms around you.

“Shut up, ‘m heartsick,” you mumbled into his shirt. Your eyes fluttered shut as his nimble fingers slid deftly through your hair. You opened your eyes and groaned again. “Gonna be sick,” you told Jaskier. He tensed, guiding you into the bathroom, holding you steady when you staggered.

“Take it easy,” he told you. You swayed and fell to your knees, heaving into the basin a few times before spilling your stomach’s contents. Tears blurred your vision as your throat burned, but then you felt gentle hands holding your hair, rubbing soothing circles into your back.

“Shhh, better out than in, that’s right,” Jaskier crooned to you. The next heave was more of a sob and you allowed a few tears to fall before reigning it in, spitting and sniffling. “Better?”

“No,” you groaned, arms shaky as you leaned on the sink for support.

“Are you going to be sick again?” Jaskier checked.

You swallowed. “Don’t think so.”

“Let’s get you into bed, then,” he decided. He coaxed you back into the bedroom, convinced you to drink a glass of water before getting you to lay down, pulling the blanket over the top of you. You looked up at him blearily.

“Jask? Don’t leave me alone tonight,” you mumbled quietly, tears filling your eyes again. Jaskier paused, looked at you solemnly before nodding. He made short work of changing out of his day clothes into a pair of comfortable cotton sleep pants, opting to remain shirtless as he laid on the other side of the bed. This close, you could smell the oils he liked to dab under the bolt of his jaw after a bath, familiar and fragrant, making you relax as you breathed it in. Your eyes fluttered shut and you yawned, stretching until your shoulders popped before flopping down bonelessly with a groan.

You cracked your eyes open when Jaskier chuckled quietly, peering at him hazily. He just smiled, pushing your hair back from your face in a way that made your heart clench with longing. “Good night, Y/N,” he said quietly.

“Will you sing to me, Jask?” you asked softly, closing your eyes again.

He hummed. “What would you have me sing, little robin?”

“Anything,” you murmured. “Jus’…..wanna hear you.” You nuzzled your face into the pillow, already starting to doze. Jaskier’s voice barely reached you; he hummed a wordless tune, but the soft crooning was familiar and soothing and you were out like a light in no time.

* * *

You were awoken by the sound of Jaskier rummaging around. The sun streaming through the window was too bright, stabbing your eyes, and you hissed in displeasure, shielding your eyes with your hand as you sat up.

“Jaskier?” you rasped, squinting at him through your fingers.

“Geralt didn’t come back last night,” was all he said tersely. It took a few moments for the words to click together coherently through the daze of your hangover, but when they did your stomach dropped. Geralt had assured the two of you as he prepared to head out yesterday that he would be back before dawn.

It was midmorning. Something must have gone wrong.

Your head spun as you scrambled out of bed and hastened to dress. You speared Jaskier with a glare when he started to protest. “I’m coming, and you can’t stop me.”

The two of you locked gazes, a silent contest of wills, before he nodded tersely. “Let’s go find him, then,” he said. You nodded, grabbing your dagger and tucking it into the sheath strapped to your leg under your dress. You and Jaskier headed out together.

* * *

The rundown cottage was unassuming; moss grew unchecked on the sides, and the windows cracked in places, covered in thin sheens of dirt. It looked abandoned, but you and Jaskier had sat for several nights with Geralt while he scouted the forest before he determined this to be the witch’s home base. If Geralt was anywhere, it was here.

You and Jaskier stood outside the gate that would lead to the cottage, anxious. Anything that could overpower Geralt was sure to be more than a match for you two but–

“He needs us,” Jaskier muttered, and you nodded in agreement. The two of you exchanged a look before hopping over the gate and rushing to the door. Unease prickled through you when you tested the door and found it unlocked, but you couldn’t afford to wait – any second of hesitation could be the second that cost Geralt his life.

Jaskier shoved the door open and the two of you rushed in; your eyes swept side to side before fixing on–

“Geralt,” you gasped. He was kneeling on the hard stone floor by the fireplace in the far wall, hands resting on his thighs and black eyes staring blankly ahead.

He didn’t respond.

“Geralt?” you asked again, tentatively taking a step forward. His skin was pale as a specter and webbed with black veins, his eyes liquid onyx and unseeing, staring straight through you and Jaskier. He was in his meditation pose, muscles loose but ready to spring to action at a moment’s notice.

“Geralt isn’t home,” a voice said behind you, and the door slammed shut.

Spinning around, you glared at the witch who was watching you and Jaskier with a cold smile. Her honey-toned skin rich and flawless, plum eyes dark and captivating in a lovely heart-shaped face. “What have you done to him?” you demanded.

“He’s fine, only under my thrall. It was no easy feat, ensnaring him, but even he isn’t completely immune to my spells, as you can see.” She waved her fingers, and for a brief moment the air seemed to shimmer like a mirage, until you realized it was magic, dancing through the air like a spiderweb linking from the witch to Geralt, thin tendrils wrapped around his limbs and torso like a gossamer-thin cocoon. He twitched, blinked slowly and came to his feet.

“Geralt?” Jaskier asked nervously, grabbing your arm and pulling you with him as he stumbled back a step. “Geralt, what are you doing?”

The witch moved around to stand beside Geralt, who went still again. “He obeys only me, now.” The witch trailed long, elegant fingers along Geralt’s bicep, her voice lilting and melodic. “Who have you ever been faithful to, witcher? How many have you lied to, how many have you let down and hurt? You use women for your pleasure, give them a little coin and consider that enough, casting them aside without a care. You’ll pay for your callousness.” Her gaze turned to Jaskier and Geralt drew his sword, advancing on the two of you. “We’ll start by breaking your favorite toys.” 

“Why are you doing this?” you demanded, shifting to stand slightly in front of Jaskier protectively.

The witch sneered at you. “He isn’t worth your protection; neither of them are.”

“That’s not for you to decide,” you retorted. Her fair face twisted in rage, contorting into something bitter and ugly that sent shivers tingling through you.

“If you cast your lot in with them, you can share their fate,” she hissed. “Take them, witcher,” she commanded, and Geralt sprung.

You reached for your dagger but before you could grab it Jaskier’s hands seized you and shoved you aside, sending you sprawling onto the floor as the blur that was Geralt crashed into the bard. “Jask!” you cried when you heard his pained yelp. You sat up on your elbows to see Geralt sitting astride Jaskier’s body, strong thighs pinning him down and his hands on his throat. Jaskier looked up at him with large eyes but Geralt wasn’t applying pressure; he was still, trembling as he fought the witch’s thrall.

“I….won’t…” he gritted out and you felt a surge of pride.

“Fight it, Geralt,” you whispered, sitting up. “You’re stronger than some damned spell, you can beat this.”

Jaskier worked his arms free, brought his hands up to gently caress Geralt’s face as he spoke soothingly. “Sh sh sh, Geralt….it’s okay. You would never hurt me. I trust you.” He traced his fingertips along Geralt’s cheekbones and Geralt’s eyes fell shut, nostrils flaring as he shook. “You can fight this, I know you can.”

“Leave him out of this,” Geralt hissed in a low, menacing voice. Even though it wasn’t directed at you, goosebumps broke out along your arms at the sound. “He’s done nothing.”

You looked at the witch, who scoffed. “He’s no innocent. Tell me, bard: how many have you led on with pretty promises, only to abandon them as soon as you’ve gotten what you wanted from them? How many hearts have you broken, how many have you scorned and taken advantage of? Time to pay your penance. _Take him, witcher_ ,” she commanded.

A full body shudder shook Geralt and he roared, “I WON’T!” even as his hands slowly started to squeeze. Jaskier gasped, scrabbling at Geralt’s hands before looking up at him, wheezing as he gently patted Geralt’s cheek. You saw a single tear slip down Geralt’s cheek as he fought it, saw the color slowly leeching from Jaskier’s face and something in you shattered. You turned to the witch.

“Stop this.” You meant to demand but it came out as more of a plea. “They’re good men, stop this.”

She curled her lip disparagingly as she looked you over before a wicked gleam entered her eyes. “A bargain. If their life is so important, barter for them with your own.”

You didn’t even hesitate, locking eyes with her. “I’ll do it.”

The witch flicked her fingers and you heard gasping behind you. Looking over your shoulder, you saw that Geralt had released Jaskier’s throat, but he was once again still as a statue and it made you sick.

“Y/N,” Jaskier gasped, “no…d-don’t–” He coughed hard and you smiled sadly at him.

“You two…what you have, it’s beautiful, and worth protecting. You are worth protecting, both of you. This is what I can do for you, and I’ll do it gladly. Just…take care of each other.”

“What a touching sentiment,” the witch said drily. She had returned to stand in front of you, a vial held delicately in her fingers. The liquid inside was pale milky blue. You swallowed.

You swallowed down any nerves you might have felt. No turning back now. “What is it?”

She smiled cruelly. “A poison. Drink it all, and I’ll release them.” She inclined her head towards Jaskier and Geralt before holding the glass out to you.

You took it hesitantly, tearing the cork out.

“Don’t,” Geralt rumbled. You turned again, met his stygian gaze steadily. “Put it down,” he tried to order you, but his voice was raspy and harsh. “You don’t know what it will do to you.”

“I know it will save you, and that’s what matters. Right now, you are my first priority.” You lifted the vial as if in a toast and downed it all in one go. It went down like acid, bitter and vile on your tongue; as it scorched a path down your throat to your gut, heat blossomed through your veins until you grew dizzy, vision fuzzy and fading rapidly as you swayed. You heard Jaskier weakly call your name, heard Geralt’s roar of rage, and then everything went black and silent as you collapsed.

* * *

“Y/N! Y/N! _Wake up,_ damn you, you don’t get to die on us like this!”

Someone was shaking your shoulders, frantically calling to you. You moaned weakly, everything aching and throbbing, heat pulsing through you with every beat of your heart. You felt like you were boiling, sweat beading on your forehead and heat churning in your gut, pooling between your legs. You whimpered, squeezing your thighs together as a painful burst of heat pounded through you again.

“J-Jask?” you managed to gasp out, slitting your eyes open.

“Oh, thank Melitele,” Jaskier announced, sighing in relief. He slid his arms under you, pulling you upright. You stayed limp, all your limbs heavy like lead, head flopped back as your chest heaved with your breaths. “You’re alive.”

“Doesn’t feel like it,” you whined. You squirmed, hips canting up restlessly and your thighs rubbing together seeking some sort of relief for the desperate heat building in your core, coiled tight enough to be painful. It was hard to think through the fire searing through you, hard to hold onto rational thought, but you struggled valiantly. “Geralt–is he okay?”

“Good question,” Jaskier asked, glancing to the side. You flopped your head to the side to follow his gaze, seeing Geralt sitting pressed against the far wall; the lifeless body of the witch was lying prone in front of him, her head twisted all the way round, glassy eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. He was in the shadows but his eyes were dark as pitch, watching the two of you.

“You two should leave,” he rumbled quietly. “Get Y/N to a healer in town, they should be able to abate the effects.”

“What’s wrong with her?” Jaskier demanded, arms briefly tightening around you. You shuddered, his touch painful to your overheated skin, but it sent electric tingles down your spine that had your toes curling. You gasped, fingers fisting in his shirt. Blue eyes snapped back down to you, concerned. “Y/N? Are you in pain?”

“Everything is–bad,” you gasped. “But–less bad when you do that,” you added, pulling on his shirt, trying to use it as leverage to drag yourself up without much effect.

“Do what?” he asked you bewilderedly.

“Touch her,” Geralt spoke softly. “Damn. Not a poison – a potion.”

“Potion? What potion?” Jaskier demanded. He was barely paying you any mind now, but the blistering heat was driving you mad. You wanted to tear off your clothes, scratch your skin off to alleviate the buzzing, the burning. You pulled on Jaskier’s shirt again, managed to haul yourself up this time. Your face was near his neck and you buried your nose in the soft juncture of throat and shoulder. Breathing him in soothed something in you, but it wasn’t enough and you groaned needily. Unthinking your lips latched onto his skin and Jaskier gasped, hands tightening on your waist.

“Y/N, what–?” he gasped, pushing you away slightly. You whimpered and squirmed in protest.

“It’s a lust potion,” Geralt spoke. “I can smell her arousal from here.” Geralt’s voice went from gruff and grumbly to velvety smooth, the sound of it like a caress that had you moaning breathlessly, hips twitching, seeking some sort of friction.

“Geralt,” you groaned, watching him with heavy-lidded eyes. You saw his shoulders tense, his nostrils flaring.

“You two need to leave,” he murmured, putting a hand over his face. “Left unchecked, the potion will elevate her pulse and internal temperature until her insides liquefy. This will kill her if you don’t take care of it, quick. Get far away from here, now.” His voice slightly muffled by his hand but you could see his chest rising and falling with rapid breaths.

“Absolutely not,” Jaskier protested. He drew you into his arms and you hummed, pleased with the contact. You spread your legs to straddle his lap and yes, that was good, that gave you something to move against. You began to roll your hips, sighing breathlessly as it stoked the heat in you, but in a more pleasant, satisfying way, less painful than the effects of the potion scorching you.

“Mm,” you hummed breathlessly. “No leaving,” you agreed. “Need…. _need_ ,” you panted, struggling to think coherently, watching Geralt as you moved against Jaskier. He was clutching you tightly, breaths going ragged. You could feel him hardening against you and you groaned again. “ _Geralt_ ,” you gasped, struggling to speak beyond that.

“You need us, and we won’t abandon you,” Jaskier panted out and you hummed in agreement, nuzzling the soft spot behind his ear where his hair was soft and smelled nice. You pressed a kiss there, latched on lightly with your teeth. His breath hitched and you hummed against his skin.

“You can’t be around me when I’m like this,” Geralt hissed. “The witch is dead, but her spell’s effects are lingering. I’ll destroy anything I touch when I’m like this and I….I can’t…” He shuddered as you gazed at him, peered at you with hunger in his onyx eyes that stoked the heat prickling under your skin, you were sure your smallclothes were soaked by now. “You two are too important to risk like that,” he managed to rasp out.

You hummed, latched your lips onto Jaskier’s earlobe and sucked lightly, your voice breathless as you spoke quietly. “Tell him,” you murmured, rolling your hips needily against the line of his cock hardening in his trousers.

Jaskier shuddered and gasped, his voice unsteady as he spoke to Geralt. “You absolute dolt, don’t you remember what I told you earlier? You would never hurt us. I trust you, we trust you. So quit being so thick and get over here.” His fingers fumbled with the laces of your dress as he spoke and you hummed your approval, looking at Geralt again.

“Need you,” you whispered when his gaze met yours, and it seemed to shatter what was left of his restraint.

Exhaling in a rush, Geralt lurched forward, coming over to you and Jaskier on his hands and knees until he was at your back, hands taking over the task of undoing the laces of your dress from Jaskier. You purred, pleased, and took Jaskier’s hand, guiding it under your skirt to press against your slick core through your panties. Even through cloth the touch had you weak and quivering, a needy moan wrenched from you as you twitched.

“Shh, dove,” Geralt murmured. “We’ll take care of you.” He tugged your dress off and you held your arms up as he pulled it over your head.

“Whatever you need,” Jaskier added, fingers slipping under your panties to slip against your slick entrance. You whined and rolled your hips, breathing laboured as feverish want threatened to consume you.

“N-need–” You gasped, mind latching onto the word but unable to follow the trail of thought to the end because Geralt was pressing up against your back, the hard line of his cock pressing against your ass banishing any and all thought. You ground back against him with a moan, head flopping back onto Geralt’s shoulder; you were dizzy with wanting but you felt Jaskier’s fingers and you canted your hips towards him eagerly, shifting your knees apart to grant him easy access.

You looked up at Geralt through a haze, black eyes meeting yours until your eyes fluttered shut as two fingers slipped into you, drawing a moan out of you. You arched your back with a pleased sigh and reached up, scrabbling at Geralt and dragging him down for a kiss. He met you with a surprised grunt, and though it tasted bitter when his mouth parted against yours the sweet relief of his tongue sliding into your mouth had you moaning into him again. You felt his hands tighten on your waist, felt the rocking of Jaskier’s fingers falter and you broke away from Geralt, panting to meet hungry blue eyes.

“Mm….Jask,” you purred, words beyond you now but you reached for him and he reached back, drew you close and kissed you. The bitter taste of Geralt lingered on your tongue, mingling with the sweetness of Jaskier for a heady concoction.

You felt Geralt’s hands drop from your waist and whined as he moved away, twisting around on Jaskier’s lap to watch the witcher. He met your gaze hungrily. “I’m fetching my bag, dove; we’ll need oils.” His voice was low with anticipation and you could see the front of his trousers straining. It had your mouth watering, and his black eyes darted down to watch the motion of your throat as you swallowed.

“Hurry back,” Jaskier rasped and then his hands were on your face again, pulling you in for another kiss. You met him eagerly, letting go of his arms to fumble with his clothes, shoving his shirt off his shoulders carelessly until your hands were free to roam the planes of his chest, thumbing a nipple and pleased when you got a breathy gasp against your mouth in response. He caught your hand and pulled back to look at you. You pouted and he chuckled, kissed your forehead. “Lemme touch,” you whined needily, tugging your wrist in his grip, your other hand scrabbling at his trousers, trying to push them off.

“Let me help, darling,” he murmured, releasing your hand.

You reluctantly slid off of his lap so he could remove his trousers, trailing your lips down his chest and gently closing your teeth over the nipple you’d played with before soothing with your tongue. He hissed your name quietly and then his cock was out, slippery head glistening with precum nudging against your thigh and you whimpered his name desperately, mind going fuzzy. You were on him in an instant, mindlessly moving against him and floating in a cloud of bliss as his hands slid over your skin, holding your hips to guide and control your movements.

And then there was another presence, hard muscle pressed against your back, a shock of cold that made you shudder and break away with a gasp as icy lips touched the back of your shoulder.

“Shh, dove, it’s only me. Relax.” Geralt, your feverish mind told you, and then cold fingers followed the back of your thigh up to grope your ass, kneading and massaging it as you moaned, dropping your head to bury it in Jaskier’s neck. You felt his thumb slipping into your core, searching, and you bucked into the touch with a cry when it found your clit. He shushed you and leisurely pleasured you, making you feel good but never giving you quite enough, just keeping you pent up and needy; you fumbled before grabbing onto his cock, and his rhythm faltered as you gave him a slow stroke, trying to match your rhythm to his as you panted.

Your clouded mind was so hyper-focused on Jaskier that the first press of a slick finger against your tight hole made you keen, arching your spine and throwing your head back. You dropped your hold on Jaskier for fear of gripping him too tightly.

“Too much?” Geralt rumbled quietly, voice gravelly and rough, making you whimper.

“Not enough,” you hissed between your teeth; you became vaguely aware that you were trembling, but you relaxed with a little sigh when Jaskier kissed your jaw, his hands sliding up to cup your breasts, massaging them gently. “I need more,” you groaned.

“Such a needy thing,” and that was almost a purr, icy lips touching your shoulder again as his finger started to move in you, slowly working in and out. You groaned and pressed into Jaskier’s hands, dipping your fingers between your own legs to slick them up with your arousal before grabbing onto Jaskier’s cock again. He jerked into your fist with a groan, and you shuddered as his warm breath fanned against your skin, every touch and sound stoking the heat in you until your brain became unfocused, you lost track for a while of whose hands were where but everything was building heat and bliss and the delicious motion of bodies moving together.

Everything sharpened again when you felt the head of Geralt’s cock lining up with your entrance, his hands on your hips as he pressed in. The stretch burned in the best possible way as he slid into you, and you forced your eyes open (when had you closed them?) to see Jaskier watching the two of you, lazily stroking his cock. Gods, he was a vision, hair disheveled, skin glistening with sweat and flushed with arousal, dick erect and glistening with precum, he was nearly as wet and wanting as you were.

You pressed back against where Geralt knelt behind with a moan and felt his answering groan vibrate through your back. “J-Jaskier,” you gasped, unable to form words but you _needed him, now_. You whined, holding your hand out towards him with a weak grasping motion of your fingers until he crawled over, silencing you with a kiss. You felt a cool hand slide under one leg and hitch your leg up so it was tucked to your chest; your breath caught in your throat as this allowed him to somehow go even deeper and then Jaskier was there, slipping your other leg between his and lining his cock up with your entrance before pushing in.

The feel of it had you crying out, voice raw, and you scrabbled at Jaskier, your nails leaving gouges in his skin. You heard Geralt groan as you clenched around him, his fingers digging bruises into your skin where he held you.

“Can I–” He cut off with a hiss and dropped his head onto your shoulder, and you nodded frantically.

“Move,” you pleaded, breathing raggedly. “I n-need…I-I want….” Words were too elaborate and you felt tears building in your eyes but you writhed between them, as much as you were able while they held you, one of Geralt’s hands on your hips and his other holding your leg under your knee, keeping it pinned to your chest, Jaskier’s hand on your other hip and his free one on your breast, thumb circling and pressing into your skin and making you shudder under his attentions. “ _Move,”_ you begged again, desperation wrecking your voice.

Geralt obeyed you with small rolls of his hips as Jaskier rocked against you. The stimulus was bordering on overwhelming but it was still not enough, you still hungered for more, craving a nebulous something that you couldn’t define but that remained just beyond your reach, taunting you and leaving you desperate and straining. You whimpered, tears building in your eyes and struggling to breathe around the lump in your throat.

Your hands scrabbled, slipping over Jaskier’s sweat-slick skin before latching behind you onto Geralt’s arms. It made your shoulders throb but the burn blent in with the heat consuming the rest of you so you barely noticed. Besides, it was worth it for providing leverage to pull yourself up, the new position pressing you flush back against Geralt’s hips; his answering growl vibrating against your back as his hands dug bruises into your skin had you trembling, clenching in a way that caused Jaskier to swear and utter your name like a prayer, fervent and awed.

Gazing at his enraptured face before he leaned in to pepper kisses along your throat, something unfurled in your chest. Warm, but more tempered than the blistering heat that seared your veins and threatened to devour you. _Close, but still not there._ You rocked your hips forward flush against Jaskier’s, the motion causing Geralt to slide out until only the head of his cock was still in you as Jaskier filled you up.

You shuddered as Jaskier’s groan buzzed against your skin and you fisted a hand in his hair, your other still latched onto Geralt for leverage as you began to slowly move. It was sweet agony at first, every stretch and burn delicious and only adding to your arousal. As you grew accustomed to the movement and the feelings, the pain eased into pure pleasure and before long you were riding up and down in earnest, head thrown back. You felt lips on your chest and thought it was Jaskier, and you were fairly certain that the fingers digging into your ass belonged to Geralt, but it was hard to keep track of anything but the need you chased with your fervent motions, pleasure coiling tighter and tighter in your gut until it peaked; still you pursued your release, but it wasn’t quite enough to push you over the edge and you let out a frustrated, needy moan. Then you felt Jaskier’s thumb circling your clit and Geralt’s hand smack your ass before soothing the sting by rubbing it in with a cool, gentle touch and _that_ was what finally did you in.

You cried out as you came, going still and arching your back, pulling on Jaskier’s hair as you spasmed. You heard him groan, felt his cock spurt inside you as he spilled his seed, following you over the edge. You collapsed against his chest, breathing heavily; you felt….hollow, your climax unfulfilling, and you shifted restlessly, unable to pinpoint what was wrong. You nuzzled your face into Jaskier’s neck and realized Geralt had gone still and rigid behind you, still buried deep in your ass but no longer moving.

“Mm….Geralt,” you mumbled, squirming.

He immediately pulled out and you whimpered at the sting. “Sorry, dove,” he muttered hastily and you shook your head. Your limbs were heavy but you shook your head dazedly, slowly twisting around to face him and beckoning.

“C’mere,” you murmured. You felt a bit shaky, your words sounded a bit slurred and your gut still churned with that morose emptiness, but seeing Geralt’s face (eyes back to familiar amber, when had they turned back? You must have been too far under to notice) soothed you a bit. You beckoned until he shuffled forward on his knees. You felt Jaskier’s arms encircle your waist and leaned back against his chest, smiling faintly. “Thanks, Jask,” you murmured, felt his breathless chuckle tickle against your ear before his lips pressed against your skin and you smiled lethargically at Geralt. “C’mere. Lemme….let me.”

He was close enough to grab on so you did, seizing his wrists and pulling him in until his chest was pressed to yours. You shifted and canted your hips up, grabbing onto his cock. He jerked forward into your touch, a low sound catching in his throat. You pressed your lips to his collarbone, peppered soothing kisses along his chest as you guided the head of his dick to your entrance and dug your nails into his hips, encouraging him to slip in.

He was trembling, tense and uncertain; then you felt Jaskier shift behind you. Looking up from under your lashes you saw the two of them kissing over your head. You hummed and slid your hands around, trailing your nails lightly up the backs of Geralt’s thighs before gripping his ass, pulling him in abruptly.

He groaned into Jaskier’s mouth and you whimpered a bit due to oversensitivity, but then he started to move in quick shallow thrusts, apparently the need to stay close enough to touch and kiss overshadowing the desire for deeper, longer strokes. You slid your fingers over his skin and peppered kisses along his chest. You felt his face drop and bury into your hair, Jaskier chuckling quietly as his clever fingers massaged your breasts so you went boneless back against him.

As Jaskier held you while Geralt fucked you, that fire was rekindled, building as your hips moved restlessly to meet his thrusts. Before long you were whimpering, legs locked around his hips as you groaned needily. Geralt cursed and began to fuck you in earnest, thrusting in and out of you rapidly as he chased his release. You writhed and twisted, tipping your face back so you looked up at Jaskier. You panted his name and he met you with a kiss that was exactly what you needed: sweet, gentle sweeps of his thumbs over your cheeks, the feel of his lips curved up in a smile against yours, you went lax with a moan, shuddering out a second release before melting back against him with a pleased sigh, pliant and loose-limbed as Geralt chased his release. 

You rested your head back against Jaskier’s shoulder, watching Geralt with a heavy-lidded gaze. He had his own eyes squeezed shut, head ducked down. He looked far too tense and you reached up languidly, stroking your fingers along his cheek until his amber eyes fluttered open and met yours. His eyes locked on yours, hungry and searching; he must have found whatever he was looking for because the lines of his face relaxed, went soft and then he leaned forward, changing from short rapid bursts to slow, long strokes that had you humming into his mouth as he kissed you languorously.

You slid your fingers through Geralt’s hair, smoothing out tangles gently as he unhurriedly chased his release. Jaskier’s hand slid around to cup Geralt’s balls lightly, gently rolling them and Geralt’s breath hitched, his rocking motions going still before he jerked back, pulling out and locking his hungry amber gaze on the two of you, pupils blown wide. Jaskier hummed and dipped his fingers between your legs, gathering up a bit of the cooling slick mess as you shuddered, mewling weakly at the oversensitivity. Geralt’s answering rumble was eerily similar to a growl and drew your gaze to him, his heated eyes and the hungry way they drank in the sight of you.

You slid your hands along his chest as Jaskier gripped his cock, using your mingled releases as lube as he began to slowly Geralt’s length in a quick rhythm that soon had him trembling; the witcher shuddered and squeezed his eyes shut until you patted his cheek gently.

“Don’t,” you muttered raspily, your voice hoarse but sincere. “Don’t hide from us, Geralt. You’ve no need to.” His eyes slitted open to peer at you and you drew him in, kissing him gently. It was too soon for Jaskier to get it up again but you felt his cock twitch against your backside in interest regardless as you and Geralt kissed, his teeth clamping on your lip as he went rigid suddenly; he groaned, his cock spurting hot sticky seed onto your thigh, and you kissed his jaw with a quiet smile.

His breathing was a bit ragged when he pulled back to look at you. “How do you feel, dove?” he asked quietly, voice low and velvety.

You blinked groggily at him and tried to wrap your head around the question, the hollow feeling in your chest suddenly feeling as if it could swallow you whole. “I….I’m…” Your breath hitched and without warning, you burst into tears. Geralt looked alarmed and Jaskier yelped in distress.

“Y/N, what is it? Did we hurt you?” Jaskier demanded, anxiously grabbing your shoulders and turning you to look at him. He tried to wipe your tears away but that only made you cry harder, your entire frame wracked by heaving sobs. Jaskier gave up, drew you into his arms and stroked your hair soothingly. Then you felt Geralt’s arms encircle both of you and suddenly you were moving, both of you pulled to rest on Geralt’s lap. He moved back and forth slightly and you realized he was rocking you. It made your heart splinter and you wept noisily on Jaskier’s chest.

“What’s the matter?” Geralt asked quietly. “We can’t help if we don’t know what’s going on.”

“I don’t kn-know,” you wailed. “I should be _happy_ right now but I’m _not_ and I don’t know _why_.”

You felt Geralt go very tense and still as Jaskier spoke quietly. “Y/N, darling, did you….not want….I mean, you were under the effects of the potion but if you weren’t willing….” He sounded wrecked with guilt at the idea, and you snapped your head up to look at him.

“No!” you hastily assured him. “That isn’t–I was–it’s not–I _did_ want that.”

“Then….why are you so upset?” he asked. Your tears at last were drying and he brushed them away gently.

You sniffled. “I….I hurt.” You put a hand over your heart and looked up at Jaskier with watery eyes.

Suddenly Geralt shoved his nose into the curve of your neck, inhaling deeply. You squealed in surprise and batted at him when his scruff tickled the sensitive skin there and he grunted, pulling back. “It’s the potion.”

“What about it?” you frowned, wrapping your arms around yourself. You were glad to be tucked between them, it staved off the chill trying to creep in and kept you feeling warm and safe despite the hollow aching in your gut.

Rather than answer, Geralt took your chin in his fingers, gently turning your face towards his. “Why do you think we did all of that, with you?” he asked quietly.

“Because you didn’t want me to die, and I would have if you didn’t help,” you murmured, your gaze shying away from his. He ducked down to capture your eyes again, steady and serious but with underlying warmth in his eyes.

“You’re a bit of an idiot, aren’t you?” he murmured, lips tipping up in a hint of a fond smile. You gawked at him, indignant.

“ _Excuse_ me?” you demanded, voice going a bit shrill and cracking. He shook his head with a smirk and Jaskier sighed in exasperation.

“What he means, darling, is that while that was a very….physical act, that’s not all there was to it.”

You turned to Jaskier with wide eyes, because…no. There was absolutely no way you understood that correctly, surely not. He smiled at you, grabbed your hand and brought it to his lips.

“I thought it was a simple lust potion at first, just needing to be fucked out of your system,” Geralt hummed. His fingers were sliding through your hair, nails scraping along your scalp in a very….distracting manner that had your eyes sliding closed, swaying into the touch. “Turns out it wasn’t so simple.”

“Mm?” you mumbled dazedly. “No? Then….then wh-what…?”

“A love potion,” he said. “To ramp up your physical needs until you were near hysterical with lust, until you begged us to take you, as she knew we would. But while we would satisfy your physical demands, your emotional needs would be left unfulfilled. You’d be left feeling betrayed, used up and hurt and bitter, resenting us.” You opened your eyes in time to see him gesture between himself and Jaskier. “That was her plan, anyways.”

“Mm, but she didn’t count on this,” Jaskier added, pressing his lips to the back of your hand.

“This?” you asked uncertainly, voice soft. You were afraid if you spoke too loudly you’d wake, as though from a dream, and none of this would have actually happened. Jaskier gave you a small, reassuring smile.

“You being….important, to us,” he said softly. It felt like all the air left your lungs in a rush, leaving you dizzy and reeling.

“O-oh,” you said faintly.

“Is that such a shock?” Geralt asked you, his hand sliding along your leg to squeeze your knee gently.

You bit your lip. “Kinda? I mean….just….you already have each other, why do you need me?” You hunched your shoulders a bit, insecurity making you want to shrink and hide.

Geralt hummed. “It’s not so much about need,” he told you, pressing his lips to your forehead.

“It’s about want,” Jaskier finished for him. “And we want you, with us. On the road, at whatever shitty inn we stay at, we want you with us in all things. That’s what it really boils down to.” He smiled at your look of shock. “How does that sound, love?”

You felt tears gathering in your eyes again as you gave him an answering smile, the hollow feeling in your chest dissipating like a knot being tugged loose, the space behind filled with the warmth of Jaskier’s smile and the assurance of Geralt’s arms around you. 

“It sounds absolutely perfect.”


End file.
